Growing Up Beside You
by CamelotFlag
Summary: Arthur and Merlin are best friends, have grown up together and are now fifteen. While Arthur spends time perfecting his polo and ladies man strategies, Merlin starts to see him in a different way. A story starting from age eleven and growing up... Beside them, I suppose.
1. A Friendship so Robust

**Growing up beside You**

**Hey folks... So, I know I'm not continuing Paper Boats but I'm determined to finish this. It's going to be a cute, fluffy, oneshot method piece. No drafting chapters, they'll all be done in one attempt. Prepare for angst, fluffy mini Arthur and Merlin growing up together, aww. Oh, and in case you're wondering about what they look like as younger kids in my mind just copy these links into your browser:**

** SVOD/SKYENTERTAINMENT/IMAGES/S/Spy%20S2/L_Spy_S2_ **

**Merlin-just asa butterfield but more cheekbony**

Arthur Pendragon is a man of habit. He is now at the age of 27 and has been for a long time. Even when he was seven years old and hanging up his coat on a peg in the Year 3 cloak room he made sure the collar was turned out and the buckle of the brown leather satchel he would hang on top his dark red wool jacket was facing him. Always done up. Always at precisely 8.45am.

On the other hand, Merlin Emrys is not. When he attended primary school (the same one as Arthur, coincidentally) his brown coat and red scarf were thrown haphazardly over the peg with a wizards hat sticker beneath it. Arthur's had a crown. He was always boasting, after studying medieval history and touching on the Arthurian legends in the winter term, that his name was Arthur. Proudly, he had handed out Christmas cards signed 'King Arthur Pendragon'. In this bought of medieval fever, Arthur had _insisted _that Merlin be his 'valued advisor, assistant and friend' to be as authentic as possible. Since that moment during morning playtime, they had been firm friends.

Ninety nine point nine percent of Arthur's memories seemed to include Merlin's overly large ears; Merlin clutching his 'Gameboy'; Merlin grinning, ever the optimist. When Arthur turned ten, it was Merlin he invited to go bowling, Merlin he shared his huge birthday cake with. They were like brothers. Something that Merlin's mother Hunith wholey approved of and Uther, Arthur's father mostly ignored. He always seemed to have money to wholeheartedly fling at his only son but never time. Arthur and his sister Morgana had pretty much learnt to get by on their own. Both were competent cooks by the age of twelve. Hunith saw no positives in this and was always bundling the pair under boxes of delicious lasagne or hearty stews to warm them up or, one step better, inviting Arthur to tea and Morgana too-if she wasn't at Gwen's. Gwen was a kind, pretty and intelligent girl who just wanted everyone to get along and have a nice time. If Arthur and Morgana fought, it was always Gwen who got whichever one of the two to swallow their pride and build a bridge over the rift which, at a young age, was often who chose what they would watch on TV but got more serious as ages became higher. Often, they would go days without speaking; Morgana taking Uther's side and Arthur left to cry to Merlin. That was the one d efining thing about his and Merlin's friendship. Arthur could cry to Merlin with no shame. He knew he would face no judgement, no pressure into making a decision too soon. Merlin was-and still is-his rock. His one totally reliable support. Someone to get drunk with, have serious conversations about life with. The only person he can scream like a girl in front of during a horror movie. Someone to secretly confess his membership in the Frank Sinatra fan-club to. In short, Merlin is his everything, it just took him a while to realize.

So, as the years passed and both boys grew up their friendship blossomed into something robust like an immoveable weed but as beautiful as a delicate blue-bell.


	2. No, no, no

**Hey pals, this took a while-sorry! I hope everyone who celebrates it had a great Christmas and new year! I have a GCSE Biology exam tomorrow so I had better dash but thank you for baring with me on this, means a lot:)**

By the time they were both sixteen, Merlin and Arthur could finish each others' sentences and imitate each others' voices perfectly for the register when either one wanted to skip a class. For Merlin this was P.E and for Arthur, Maths. Both had changed considerably since their younger years.

Merlin was fond of his overly large 'hipster glasses' as Arthur called them. The difference, Merlin pointed out, between himself and hipsters was that he actually needed the eye-wear and it wasn't just there for fashion purposes. He grew much taller and became lanky and handsome in the way a jumpy thoroughbred in the starting gates is. He was studious and rarely seen at school without a textbook or two in his arms. He was what the girls called 'adorkarble' with a wide grin and bright blue eyes.

Arthur had changed too. He was almost as tall as Merlin but he was much more muscular with broad shoulders and large biceps. Academic, though not as academic as Merlin, he more than made up for it on the sporting field. He was captain of the rugby team and had been requested to try out for the England under 18s polo team in the September they both turned sixteen. This had made the girls swoon. Always, he had giggled when Merlin was, understandably, nervous of riding one of Arthur's flighty polo ponies and had lent him his short (13.2hh) old cobby pony Henry to gain confidence. Merlin looked funny with his legs dangling past Henry's well stuffed tummy. Often, on one of their rides together Arthur and his pony would suddenly take off at break-neck speed leaving Merlin hanging on for dear life as Henry followed suit. Arthur never, ever wore a helmet unless he had to and, in the summer, when he and Merlin were riding through the villages surrounding the Pendragon estate he would ride topless. His tanned, toned body sent girls (and sometimes guys) into fits. His white breeches and long brown boots contrasted with his skin, he had perfect manners, hair and teeth, was incredibly charming and had a very posh, very English accent. He was, in short, a 'ladies man'.

Despite all this, Arthur never had a girlfriend. He spent all his time with Merlin, his horses, playing rugby or drawing.

Merlin guessed he never had time for things so trivial as girlfriends.

Arthur was sat at his huge oak desk, drawing. He sat back for a moment and admired his artwork. It was a boy in red and gold polo colours astride a glossy black mount. He had raven hair, blue-gold eyes and high cheekbones. _'There's something familiar about him' _pondered the blond, leaning back with his hands behind his head pouting and frowning. Then he realized. _'Oh shit. Merlin! Bloody Merlin!' _Reaching out to crumple the drawing in embarrassment he stopped and studied the drawing more closely. He had given the boy big muscles and a pouty, open mouthed smirk with one eyebrow raised. He looked, in a nutshell, flirtatious. The eyes had a certain 'cometh-hither' look in them. _'Come hither I shall' _giggled Arthur internally. _'Oh fuck, oh no, no, no.' _He stuffed the drawing into a drawer in his desk then smacked his head on the hard oak surface. The lump would be there for days and when Merlin asked he said, "oh, I got into a rough rook at rugby".

_'no, no, no.'_


End file.
